42 Days
by KarotsaMused
Summary: Short little ficlet about the importance of every day. For the author mb challenge.


A/N: Hello. I live. And ... ammguh, something non-Breakroom? No, I don't have a fever. Heh.  
  
The eff eff dot net author messageboard (link in my profile) is having a contest. I write this for 42 Days Challenge #1. A non-romance ficlet between 1000 and 2000 words, using "Message", "Board", and "42 Days" in the fiction.  
  
Setting will be easy to discern after you finish reading, and I'll not spoil it for you now. Warnings: mild swearing, crappiness. It's _so_ bad. But ah, well. Enjoy anyhow.

* * *

Gojyo sits, cross-legged, on his bed. He is clad comfortably, in house clothing the girls at the bar would be appalled to see him wear. His slippers are worn nearly through so his socked toes protrude into the air. The knees of his pajamas are wearing thin. His shirt bears stains of cooking and old blood, faded from the brilliance of new death by some odd number of washings. Some even number he knows quite well.  
  
Gojyo has one eye closed, and his tongue snakes out of the corner of his mouth. He bites down on it, gently enough not to hurt himself, and holds his body steady with one hand on his knee. The other hand wavers by his ear, brushing his hair out of his face and weighing a small dart between his fingertips. Propped against a chair some yards away rests Gojyo's target: a brand-new dartboard he won off of an unfortunate opponent the night before. So far, Gojyo has yet to really master his technique, but he is improving. The darts are beginning to hit the board.  
  
His eye narrowed in concentration, Gojyo clamps down on his tongue just a little harder for luck, and rears his arm back. The door slams open, Gojyo jumps, and the dart zooms off course to skitter across the linoleum in the kitchen.  
  
"Dammit, Hakkai!" he swears, but affectionately. "Why d'you have to always go and make yourself _useful_ all the time? You screw up a perfectly good excuse to slack off."  
  
"Oh?" asks Hakkai, shouldering inside with some difficulty, balancing overflowing bags of groceries in his arms.  
  
Gojyo grins and responds, "I could always have written that off as target practice. Here, lemme give you a hand." He takes a few bags from Hakkai and follows the man to the kitchen. Hakkai bends down and picks up the wayward dart.  
  
"It appears target practice is exactly what you _need_, Gojyo-san."  
  
Gojyo waves it off and digs into the bags on the counter. "Stop calling me that. We having a party or something?"  
  
Hakkai cocks his head to the side, giving Gojyo an admonishing look as he puts the dart on the counter. "You were there when we received the message this morning."  
  
"Oh, yeah." Gojyo rubs his forehead. "I'm going to have to win doubles for a week to make up for the last time we had to feed the saru!"  
  
Hakkai chuckles gently. "Well, have a pretty woman blow on your dice." Gojyo snorts, and Hakkai begins to put the groceries away. "Just be home by morning."  
  
"Yes, mum," Gojyo responds, bowing his head and dragging his feet. "When are they coming again?" he asks, fishing an apple out of the bag and rubbing it ostentatiously on his shirt.  
  
Hakkai waits until he is not buried to the waist in the refrigerator before answering, "Tonight. At least this time they gave us a few hours' warning." He smiles, closing his eyes, and remembers for a moment. "Oh, and I got you some more cigarettes, Gojyo-san. Dig a bit and you should find them."  
  
Gojyo grins, ignoring the title for once. "Thanks, Hakkai, how'd you know I was running low?" he asks, rummaging in the nearest bag for the elusive pack.  
  
Hakkai stands on tiptoe, levering a bottle of olive oil into a high, dark compartment over the pantry. A white slip of paper falls out, fluttering slowly to the ground. "Oh," Hakkai responds, bending over to pick it up, "About the time you started making little complaints."  
  
Laughter issues from a rustling paper grocery bag. "Yeah, so I'm not subtle."  
  
Hakkai turns the paper over in his hands. There are tally marks upon it, made in varied media. Pencil, ink, what appears to be dirt. He folds it and slips it into his pocket. "No," he agrees with a chuckle, "you most certainly are not."  
  
"Ha!" cries Gojyo, emerging with the pack of cigarettes and apple juice running down his chin. He wipes his face absently on one sleeve and tosses the pack into the air. He swipes at it, grabbing it at the top of its arc, and grins. "You even know the brand. Whattaguy."  
  
Hakkai smiles, pleased. "Am I being too useful again, Gojyo-san?"  
  
"Damn' straight," replies Gojyo, winking at Hakkai and secreting the pack somewhere about his person. He takes another bite of the apple in his other hand, perching on the counter. "So, what are you going to make?"  
  
Hakkai puts on a look of deep thought as he continues storing food. When he gets to the bottom of the final bag, he folds them and arrays them neatly in a pile. He will use them next time he goes shopping. "What do you suggest, Gojyo-san?"  
  
"Stoppit with the -san. And I don't care so long as we've got beer." At Hakkai's deeply apologetic look, Gojyo frowns. "You forgot the _beer_?"  
  
"It must have completely slipped my mind!" says Hakkai, putting his hands up in defensive pose. "Is it really the end of the world?"  
  
"It will be when Sanzo gets his hands on you," responds Gojyo, rubbing his forehead again. "You're kidding me, right?"  
  
Hakkai gives Gojyo a severe smile. "Why would you ever think I would lie to you?"  
  
"Right. Sorry, sorry," Gojyo mutters quickly, knowing already the look on his housemate. "Forgot who I was talking to. It's okay. After all, we've already spent so much money on everything else. I mean, the receipt's gotta be huge. It's sticking out of your pocket."  
  
Hakkai looks down to the slip of paper, bright white against his dark pants. "Oh, that's not the..." he trails off, not wanting to bring it up and wondering why he didn't just put the paper back in the first place. He looks up at Gojyo's face, the features of which contort furiously with mounting curiosity, and knows even allowing Gojyo to see it was a mistake. "I found it." He pulls the paper from his pocket and hands it over.  
  
Gojyo nearly drops the apple, but retains passable composure as he scans the sheet of marks. "You found it? Five minutes ago, maybe."  
  
Hakkai raises his eyebrows. "How did you know?" Gojyo puts the paper in his pocket and takes another bite of the apple. He raises one eyebrow at Hakkai, daring the man to figure it out on his own. Quietly, politely, Hakkai does so. "Tally marks are for counting. Counting something, something recent, fast enough so that you know from counting when I found it. There were quite a lot of them. Counting hours seems worthless. Days? Days from what?"  
  
Gojyo swallows the bite he has been chewing and laughs dryly, shaking his head. "Okay, so you don't remember."  
  
"I'm sorry? Gojyo-san, what do you mean?" Hakkai asks, his smile fading just a little.  
  
Gojyo pulls the paper from his pocket, running his hand over it before turning it so the marks face Hakkai. "You," he says softly, "are forty-two days old." He puts the paper on the counter beside him and smiles a little, feeling sheepish. "To me, at least. I forgot when you died the first time, so I started when you came back here."  
  
Hakkai is surprised and, somewhere, oddly flattered. "Why?"  
  
Gojyo shrugs, talking to the paper instead of Hakkai. "Wanted to see how long it'd last this time. It's important, you know? I'd hate to miss an anniversary or something."  
  
There is silence for a long moment, while Gojyo stares holes in his little timeline and Hakkai stares holes in Gojyo's profile. And then, Hakkai begins to laugh. "I just realized," he says, "that I am rooming with a lovely boy." At the way Gojyo's fingers twitch, he smiles. "Hush, Gojyo, that was a compliment. Would you prefer 'young man', perhaps? Whatever you are, you aren't an adult."  
  
Gojyo frowns. "What d'you mean by _that_, anyway?"  
  
Hakkai's smile brightens a bit. "Now is more important. Or else you wouldn't write it down day after day, right?" Gojyo's face falls, his expression dulling into surprised neutrality, forced understanding. Hakkai chuckles. "So, I take it you're leaving the choice of what to cook completely up to me? If you hurry, you might be able to go out and pick up some beer if it's that important to you."  
  
Gojyo pitches the apple core in his hand into the sink and slips the piece of paper into his pocket. "Nah. You know how I'd get sidetracked by a pretty face." He picks up the dart on the counter and rolls it between his fingers. "Hey, Hakkai."  
  
"Mm?" the brunette asks without turning from the stove.  
  
"You forgot the -san."  
  
"Oh! I'm sorry."  
  
"No, no, it's good."  
  
"Do you prefer -chan so much?"  
  
"Yeah, that's it."  
  
"I'm sure Goku-san will be pleased to know."  
  
"First, no beer, and now you're gonna set the saru loose on me? With a dartboard in the house? Do you _want_ to live to see forty-three?"  
  
"If only to give you the pleasure of making another mark."

"You're toying with me."

"Nonsense. Taste this sauce and tell me if it needs more pepper."

* * *

You know what? I'm kinda glad I ended it with simple dialogue. It sounds kind of easy-way-out, but it was fun anyhow. Nyah XP


End file.
